


Crowns of Black and Gold

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Politics, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-11-29 13:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18223664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Draco is King of Malfoy Kingdom and a virgin. He's also desperately in love with Prince Harry, a war hero who hates him for not fighting.





	Crowns of Black and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 63: King Draco is deeply infatuated by Prince Harry and wants his hand in marriage. Prince Harry plays hard to get and doesn't get swayed by all the riches and wealth of the Malfoy Kingdom (Change the Kingdom names as you please).
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Draco was frustrated. He was King of Malfoy Kingdom and reigned during a time of peace. He was the land’s most eligible bachelor and had his pick of all its beautiful men and women. He was also twenty-five, a virgin, and desperately in love with a man who couldn’t stand him. 

His kingdom hugged a stormy coast, his castle mere steps away from a rocky beach. Salty wind whistled through the old windows and the darkened courtyards. Fires crackled hotly in the keep, but the outer corridors stood icy and grey. Draco loved his castle. He loved its long shadows and wet quiet. He loved the rain that battered his green walls and the clouds that kept his face moon pale. His kingdom was isolated, which Draco preferred, but it meant he spent his days hunting political alliances like a starving albatross. 

Draco stared at the gorgeous man in front of him. All of his problems would be solved if Prince Harry married him. All of his _aching_ would finally be numbed. He had wanted for so very long. 

“Your Highness,” Harry said, and dropped to a knee. He didn’t need to bow like a commoner, but Draco knew it wasn’t a sign of respect. Harry always insisted on polite distance and stuffy etiquette. He was capable of friendly warmth and burning bravery. He was capable of ringing laughter and bright, bright smiles. Draco had only seen it from across the room or out of the corner of his eye. 

“Please rise,” Draco said, waving a bejeweled hand. 

Harry stood and gave him a mild smile. There was no spark in his gorgeous eyes. He looked bored. “The Grimmauld Kingdom thanks you for your hospitality. I hope my stay will further unite our lands.”

Draco shifted on his throne of glossy buckthorn and midnight orchids. His crown felt heavy on his head, like strong fingers digging into his scalp, and he imagined its diamonds knife-sharp. “Is your uncle well?”

“Yes. Thank you for asking. King Sirius sends his best wishes. He regrets his inability to be present.”

Draco smiled lightly. He did his best not to smirk, but it was hard, very hard. He hated when people lied to him. King Sirius was a notorious recluse. Harry fulfilled all of his diplomatic obligations. Everyone knew they had to go through Harry if they wanted to make a deal with the Grimmaulds. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Draco raised his left hand lazily. “Sir Gregory will show you and your men to the northern rooms. Please let me know if you need anything.”

Harry bent his head. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Harry and his men marched from the room. Draco turned his head so he wouldn’t stare at his arse. It was such a nice arse. 

His mind was a rush of images, and he struggled not to let it show on his face. He wanted to be alone so he could analyze his thoughts and begin to plan. He couldn’t waste this opportunity. He had to do something to impress Harry; he had to finally get him to _see_ him.

Another guest stepped forward, a renowned carpenter from Azkaban Isle, but Draco smiled and nodded without listening.

It had been over a year since Draco had seen Harry. The Grimmauld Kingdom was a distant neighbor; his own mother had been born there. Their alliance had a long history, which meant they made sure to play host to one another at least once a year. This also meant that Draco was able to see Harry enough that there was no chance he would forget about him. Not that Draco could ever forget about the great Prince Harry. Everyone knew about his legendary bravery. Their kingdoms were safe because of his sacrifice during the Death Eater War.

The carpenter went away. Draco stood before another person could approach the dais. His guards saluted him as he left the chamber, his black cape billowing behind him. He headed for the sword room where he knew he’d find Pansy.

The sword room was large and humid. Too many torches were lit, their flames bowing as he passed. Pansy was waiting for him.

“I need to change,” he barked, and headed for a changing room. Pansy was in the middle of the dusty court when he came out.

She smirked. “He’s back.”

“Oh, shut up.” Draco threw a large sword at her and she easily caught it. 

“Come on then,” she said with a ringing laugh. “Give me your best.”

She was his First Commander and the best swordsman ( _person_ ) in the land. There wasn’t much war to fight, and Draco was in the habit of loaning her out, which she liked because it kept her busy. 

She was also his best friend and the only one outside the royal family that had the nerve to tell Draco about himself. Draco appreciated her honesty.

They circled each other lazily. “I’m not sure if you deserve my best.”

“You always make a fool of yourself when he’s here.”

Draco charged her, and their swords clashed. Pansy was almost a head shorter than him, but she outmatched him in upper arm strength. They broke away to circle each other again, calculating. 

“You know how I feel about him. I can’t help it.”

“He’s the only one who has ever said no to you. You’re not used to it.” She struck but he dodged back.

His voice lowered. “Don’t make it sound like I’ve confessed my love. I’ve never _begged_.”

“But you tried to make him your friend. Over and over. He’s not an idiot.”

“He must be only interested in women.”

“He’s not.” Pansy struck again, and this time Draco was distracted and barely blocked the blow. 

Pansy had fought for the Grimmauld Kingdom during the Death Eater War. Draco had wanted to help, but he hadn’t been king at the time and his parents had forbidden it. Harry probably thought he was a coward for not joining the fight.

“What do you think I should do?”

“It’s not complicated. He’s just a person like you are just a person. _Talk_ to him, you prat.”

“That’s what I’ve tried to do every time!”

“Get him alone. Don’t boast. Don’t try to impress. Just be yourself.”

Draco stopped. He lowered his sword. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” she said, and lowered her sword. 

“He’s _Prince Harry_. Everyone wants him.”

“And you are King Draco. Everyone wants _you_.”

He groaned. He hated putting these feelings into words. It made him feel so stupid, so childish. “I just feel so . . . incompetent around him.”

She shot him a look. “Not about government, I hope.”

“Of course not.” He paused. “My entire life has been about my kingship. I don’t have much experience outside that.”

“I know,” she said gently. 

They sat down on a bench and wiped their faces with cool towels. Draco crossed his arms, trying to contain himself. 

“I don’t want to feel this way.”

“I know,” she said.

“I wish I didn’t have to see him.”

“No you don’t. You love that you get to see him.”

He sighed. “Yes.” The castle bell tolled, low like a baritone horn. “I have to go. I’m meeting with more carpenters soon.”

“Riveting.”

He laughed. “Always.”

Pansy’s voice stopped him on his way to the door. “He needs to get to know you. Let him.”

“Yes,” he said vaguely.

*

That night, Draco invited Harry to a private dinner in his rooms. This wasn’t unusual; many visiting leaders appreciated being alone with Draco, especially if they wanted something from him, which they always did.

Draco debated if he should wear his crown. He didn’t want their titles to get in the way, but he also didn’t want to insult Harry. In the end, he decided to wear it. He stared at himself in the gilded mirror. The crown looked like black barnacle, but it was actually twisted black gold. It made him look pale and severe, which was all right, but he doubted _severe_ made Harry all hot and bothered. 

There was a knock and Harry came in with one of his commanders, Bill Weasley, who seemed to act more like a man servant but Draco would never call him that in front of Harry. 

Harry stood tall in emerald cashmere. His crown was intertwining antlers in bright gold. 

“Your Highness,” Harry said, lowering his head.

Draco approached him. He touched his emerald cape, letting the soft fabric slide through his fingers. “You dressed up for me.”

“It was only appropriate.”

Draco let his cape go. He gazed at Harry steadily, watching him. Harry didn’t flinch, but his eyes were dull. He looked like he hated being there. Turning away, he said, “Dismiss your commander. I want to be alone with you.”

“Wait for me in the corridor,” Harry said.

“Of course, my prince.” Weasley disappeared through the door.

 _My prince_. Draco wondered if they were fucking. 

“Please sit down,” Draco said, motioning to the small table where dinner was already served. Draco had dismissed the servants, and in a shocking break of protocol, he poured Harry’s wine himself. 

Harry blinked. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It is my pleasure,” he purred, which was the wrong decision. Harry stiffened in his chair.

Draco went back to his seat. After some hesitation, Harry served himself and Draco followed. 

“Do you appreciate the novelty of dining alone?” Harry asked. 

“I appreciate the novelty of dining _with you_.”

Harry nodded seriously, like Draco had just shared some important battlefield update. “How are your people?”

 _Better than yours_. Draco smiled a little. “They remain strong and innovative. My fisheries caught a record number of fish this season.”

“You must be very proud of them.”

Draco thought about it. “Yes and no. I’m not the one who taught them to fish, who gave them strength. I feel very privileged to serve such a great people.”

“I understand,” Harry said, voice soft, head inclined. He ate methodically, his fork and knife very precise. Draco wondered if he was nervous. “We passed over a bridge on our journey here. Very grand, with the head of Poseidon. Your men were working on it.”

“Oh, yes, _Poseidon’s Passage_. It’s about two hundred years old. Very needy and moody. Always in need of fixing or renovating. It’s quite beautiful, and the people love it, but it eats money.”

“Grimmauld has a bridge like that, too.”

“Do people still call it _Orion’s Belt_?”

Harry smiled. “That’s not the bridges’ official name, but that’s what everyone calls it.”

Draco pushed his food around on his plate, which was very naughty of him. Kings didn’t play with their food. He was thinking, trying to strategize. It was obvious that Harry was here to ask him for assistance, but he didn’t know if they would circle each other for days before bringing it up. Draco sighed. Sometimes politics was such a waste of time. 

“Something is wrong with your crops. Your people are starving.”

“Yes.” Harry worked his jaw. “Our wheat suffered a blight. It even spread to the grass in our countryside.”

“And what does Sirius want from my kingdom? Gold? Manpower?”

Harry held his gaze. “Both.”

“If I send assistance to your kingdom, what will you give me in return?”

“King Sirius is very generous to the people who help him.”

“No, what will _you_ give me?”

There was a long silence. Harry gulped. “I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness.” 

Draco pushed away from the table and stood. He stalked to the window, staring at the black sea. “I want you to go hunting with me. We could leave tomorrow.”

“I will tell Bill to ready the horses.”

“No.” Draco turned back to face him. “Just us. No one else.”

Harry stared. His expression was almost unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. Maybe fury. Maybe fear. “Okay,” he said.

“Very good,” Draco said, and turned away again. His heart was hammering. He didn’t want him to see his excitement. 

Harry stood. “If you don’t mind, I need to leave now so I can alert my men of my journey.”

“Yes, of course.” Draco stepped closer to help him ready his cape, but then stopped himself. 

“Thank you for dinner, Your Highness,” Harry said at the door.

“Will you call me Draco?”

Harry didn’t smile. “Maybe.”

*

Later Draco lay in bed and let the darkness cover him like a duvet. There were few places where he let himself completely relax, and his bedroom was one of them. Servants and guards lingered just outside his door, but they weren’t in the room, holding their breath for an order.

He couldn’t believe Harry had agreed to go alone with him. Grimmauld Kingdom must be in worst shape than reported. He closed his eyes and tried to quell the excited drumming in his stomach. They were to share a tent for multiple days. They were to _sleep_ beside one another. Draco would roll over and be able to _touch_ him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and slipped a hand into his pants. His erection was hot and insistent. He didn’t stroke himself. He knew himself too well for that. If he gave into the urge now, he’d be up all night, fucking his hand to thoughts of Harry. 

That was what the prince from Grimmauld did to him. That was what he’d _always_ done to him.

His virginity made it all worse. His feelings wouldn’t be so intense if he’d had his first shag at fifteen or seventeen like other blokes. He had wanted to shag Harry back then. He’d been desperate for it. But then the war came and Draco ran back to his kingdom, leaving Harry and the others to fight. He never got the chance to show Harry that he had grown up. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his cock once and removed his hand. He rolled over and punched his pillow. It was going to be a long night.

*

In the morning they set off in a light drizzle. For the first hours, Draco led Harry away from the coast and into the blanket of trees. There was a well-traveled road through the forest, but the drizzle turned into heavy rain that plummeted the lush canopy and made batter of the ground.

“We will stop,” Draco said above the rain. He pulled his horse to the side and set about preparing for lunch. Harry followed his lead. 

As their horses munched on oats, Draco and Harry sat on a blanket, eating salted meat and drinking wine. It was quiet and conversation was limited. Harry seemed very interested in the birds still going about their day, braving the downpour. Draco watched his face in profile. His cheeks were pink, his hair so wet it dripped. 

“Thank you for coming. Again.” He had said the same thing before they left.

Harry didn’t look at him. “You are the King. There is no need to thank me.” 

Draco wanted to grind his teeth. He thanked him because Harry was _special_. “Do you like to hunt?”

“Yes, but I haven’t been able to in the last year. The wildlife has been eating the infected grass and no one knows if the meat is safe.”

“Have you spoken to your countrymen? Are they falling sick?”

“No one is eating the meat.”

Draco frowned. He thought Harry knew his own people better. “Yes, but many in the countryside are too poor to stop hunting. No matter what they tell officials, they will continue to look to the deer for food.”

“You don’t understand. King Sirius outlawed hunting. We must import all our meat from our neighbors. It is very expensive.”

His frown deepened. “What do you do when you’re home?”

“I’m rarely at home.”

“Well, there’s your problem. You shouldn’t speak with such conviction about things you don’t know.”

“Are you saying I don’t know the Grimmauld people?” There was an edge to his voice. 

Draco’s gaze was hungry. He wanted to see Harry angry. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Harry finally looked at him. He smiled. “Is that what you do? Ride around and mingle with the _commoners_?”

“Yes.”

“And what do they say?”

“They say I’m a handsome king. Perfect.”

“You must pay them. You must load their pockets with gold.”

Draco was hurt, but he didn’t show it. He raised his chin and quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I’m handsome?”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Harry stood and began to pack up.

They continued their journey, but Harry wrapped himself in slightly hostile silence. Draco wanted to provoke him more. Throw rocks at him. Knock into his horse. Whisper childish insults in his ear. Old habits died hard. 

The rain let up, and weak sunlight dripped through the trees like nectar. Draco smelled the flowers, lush and sweet. Rodents scurried from their shadows and birds watched them like guardians. 

By mid-afternoon, they arrived at Draco’s favorite campsite. He had a royal residency not far from there, but he didn’t like to use it when he wasn’t on official visits. He was hungry for solitude. 

They jumped from their horses and got to work. Harry brushed down their horses and fed them, and Draco set up their small tent using a hammer and ropes. 

Harry bent low to create their fire, the muscles in his shoulders and back rolling as he stripped the wood and worked up hot friction. Draco stopped to watch him, wishing he was shirtless. Draco wondered what he would do if he walked over and licked the back of his neck.

“Do you like rabbit?” Draco asked.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. “Sure. Any fresh meat sounds good.”

He nodded awkwardly and disappeared into the trees. The gloom was heavy and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He hadn’t set up traps, but sometimes his instincts were enough. He pulled out a small bow and crept through the foliage as quietly as possible. He heard scurrying and paused. He wouldn’t mind eating some squirrel or wood mice. 

A flash of white. He turned and shot his arrow. There was a squeak and a soft thud. He found the rabbit dead amid some wet leaves. It was a good sign.

“I got lucky,” Draco said back at the site, holding up the bleeding rabbit. 

Harry’s eyes lit up. “The forest knows when its King is hungry.”

“Yes,” Draco said, suppressing a frown. In school, Harry had never been prone to stupid flattery. Draco didn’t like that he was using it now. 

They prepared the rabbit for the fire; then worked together to cook it evenly, standing close. Draco smelled dark smoke and clean sweat. He stole glances at Harry, enjoying his proximity.

“What is your favorite meal?” Draco asked.

Harry tilted his head. His eyes were trained on the rabbit. “I enjoy simple things. Venison. Chicken. Sweet tarts.”

“I like sweets, too.” Draco knew he was being awkward, but Harry always had the ability to steal his confidence, to unravel him. When they were children, it had drove Draco mad. Now it made him lust. 

The rabbit was served on a bed of leaves. They ate without utensils, fatty grease running down their fingers. Draco’s mum would’ve _fainted_. Kings didn’t eat with their fingers.

“I don’t remember you being like this in school,” Draco said.

“I grew up.”

They sat close together, shoulders almost touching. They both had long legs and strong chests. Capable. Commanding. Draco wanted to wrestle him, force him onto his back. He wanted to make him submit. 

“Do you think I have changed?” Draco said, smirking a little.

“No.”

“What? Of course I have changed!”

Harry dropped his gaze. “We are strangers.”

Draco didn’t like what Harry was saying to him. “No, we’re not! We’ve known each other since we were children.” 

“I still think we are strangers.”

“I want to _know_ you.”

Harry hesitated. Why must he always pick his words carefully? “What would you like to know about me, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that. Not here.”

Harry blinked innocently. “Why not? I am in your kingdom. I would never want to insult you.”

“I don’t want that. I want to be _friends_. I want you to just relax around me.”

Harry was looking at him, his lips almost quirking. He seemed like he wanted to laugh. 

“Come on. Just say it. I know you want to say something to me.”

“No, Your Highness.”

“God!” Draco shoved him, just a little, and the grease smeared on his tunic. Draco didn’t mean to, but he wanted to force a genuine reaction from him. Harry barely moved, but he did smile, maybe from bemusement. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You mean to _punish_ me!” Draco shoved him again, harder this time. Harry knocked back; he grabbed his hands to stop him. God, he was very warm.

“I mean to please you.”

“No, you don’t. What happened to the boy who defeated the Dark Lord?”

“I am still him. Nothing has changed.”

Draco pressed closer. He wanted to kiss Harry’s neck, nuzzle it. He wanted to lick his cheek, claim him. “I’ve heard rumors. So many rumors. You have changed and now you refuse to show yourself to me.”

“People like to talk. They like to lie. I can’t help that.” Harry let go of his hands. He turned his head away.

Draco had the biggest urge to throttle him. He stood before he actually did it. “Good supper. I’m going to wash up.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Draco stomped away. He spent a good hour in the forest, walking around, following the shadows. He washed up in the river, the air smoky purple in the dusk. He half expected Harry to come looking for him.

When he returned to camp, Harry was in their tent. Draco made sure their horses were set for the night before going inside. His heartbeat was a dull pain in his chest.

“Ready for bed already?” Draco said, crawling through the flap. 

“Yes,” Harry said distantly, his eyes closed.

Draco laid down beside him. Harry had made up his bed. “Thank you.”

“Anything, Your Highness.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I apologize, sir.” It was dark in the tent, but Draco thought he saw Harry smile. 

“You are making fun of me.”

“Never, Your Highness.”

Draco curled up in a comfortable position. He made sure he was as close as possible without actually touching him. “You are such a prat.”

“Yes, sir.”

*

The sun greeted them in the morning. It had been so long since Draco felt its hot direct gaze. He turned his face to it, orange cream against his lids.

Harry wandered into the trees without saying where he was going. Draco assumed he was venturing down to the river. Draco made them a breakfast of dried meat and nuts, but he grew agitated when Harry didn’t return. 

Draco headed for the river. The truth was that he was scared something might’ve happened to Harry, but he didn’t let himself move quickly. When he arrived at the bank, he found Harry’s clothing neatly folded on a rock. 

Harry emerged from the water, naked. He wrapped a towel around his waist, his hair dripping into his eyes. Draco wanted to fall to his knees and drink from his stomach.

“Good morning,” Draco called out.

“Good morning.” Again, Harry didn’t look at him.

“Do you still hate me?” Draco tried not to show his anger, his agitation. 

Harry frowned. “Of course not, Your Highness.”

“I think you do.” Draco stalked closer. 

“I have no reason. You have been very kind to the Grimmauld Kingdom.”

“I didn’t fight in the Death Eater War. I was spared, unlike many of your friends. Unlike you.”

“That is all in the past, Your Highness.”

“I believe you call me that more now you know I don’t like it.”

“No, I don’t, sir.”

Draco nudged his shoulder with a finger. “What will it take to break you? Hmm?”

Harry almost glared. “Break me?”

“You must know that I find you attractive.”

Harry blinked. “Why is it a question of _breaking me_?”

“Like I said last night, I want you to be open with me.”

Again, there was a lull of silence. Harry was expressionless, but Draco could tell he was calculating, debating. 

Harry leaned close, his wet heat reaching for Draco, his black, wild hair nearly brushing his cheek. He whispered in his ear: “You will never break me, sir.”

Draco sunk his teeth into his shoulder. Harry gasped, a hiccuped sound. He didn’t jerk away and Draco ran his tongue over the bite, soothing it. “Do you like that?” he whispered back.

“No,” Harry said, and walked away.

*

They began their hunt with more awkwardness. Harry wanted to escape him. Draco was glad that he’d finally gotten a reaction from him. He’d finally seen something that wasn’t calculated.

Draco wasn’t a nice person. Deep down. Instinctively. He was only nice for his kingdom. He had seen his father almost ruin the crown by being a tyrant. He didn’t want to be his father. 

But it was just so hard to be nice to Harry. Especially when he acted as if Draco was the shite he needed rub off his shoe. Draco didn’t want to be cordial or predictable or boring. He wanted to shove Harry so hard that he toppled to the ground, landing on his back, his thighs falling open. 

_React!_ he’d demand. _Show me what’s on the inside!_

No, Draco wanted to be mean and cruel. He wanted to _worship_ Harry. Call him names. Wrap his hands around his neck. He wanted to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear: _I’m in love with you. Do anything you want to me._

They were after deer. Draco hated hunting deer, but he could tell that Harry missed it. Draco rather hunt something that wasn’t so damn skittish. He did enough creeping around as it was. 

Being deep in the forest was like walking the ocean floor. Everything dark and green. Algae clinging to the trees like fur. The birds hiding in the leaves like fish in coral reefs. Draco looked up and barely saw sunlight.

“We’re lucky there’s no wind,” Draco whispered.

Harry nodded mutely, his green eyes so damn vibrant in the leafy gloom. Draco’s mum was once given a necklace from a faraway king with big emeralds that sparked in the firelight. His eyes were like that. 

If somehow Draco managed to get Harry to marry him, he would present that necklace to him. Ask him to wear it to bed so he could fuck him with it on. Draco had to close his eyes to chase away the image. 

“Stop,” Draco said, grabbing his shoulder. Harry went stiff under his touch. He leaned close to whisper: “There on the tree. Do you see it?”

They approached the tree, Draco still standing too close. Harry examined the bit of grey fur stuck to the bark. 

“Is it from a deer?” Draco said, knowing his breath warmed the back of Harry’s neck. 

“I think so.” Harry turned and Draco didn’t step back. They were close enough to kiss. 

“How’s the bite?”

“I don’t even feel it.”

“That’s a shame.”

Harry cocked his head. “Do you want me to be in pain?”

“Only if you like it.”

“I don’t like it.”

Draco leaned even closer. He let his lips whisper against Harry’s jaw. His heart pounded so quickly he feared he’d shake. “Are you sure about that?”

“You are the King. You can do whatever pleases you.”

Draco stepped back. “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry walked on. He said over his shoulder. “Why are you even giving me a choice?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Draco scrambled after him. Harry didn’t stop. “Wait! Stop!”

He stopped. “We’re never going to kill a deer with you making all that noise.”

“I don’t care about the damn deer. Tell me what you are talking about.”

Harry clenched his jaw. “Don’t think I’m a fool.”

“I would never think that.”

Harry laughed bitterly. “Have you completely forgotten our school years?”

“I don’t like to think of them.”

“Well, they still happened. You can’t rewrite history just because you have a few bad memories.”

“I know that!”

“Let’s go back to the campsite.” Harry began to walk away.

“Halt! I did not give you permission! Only I will decide when the hunt is over.”

Harry stopped. He fell to his knee and lowered his head. “I’m deeply sorry, Your Highness. It will never happen again.”

“ _Get up._ There’s no need for all that.”

Harry stood. His trousers were covered in mud. He was perfectly expressionless. 

“Fine,” Draco said, defeated. “We will return for your sake.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Draco gritted his teeth.

*

Back at camp, the brambles and trees shivered from a light breeze and the sun greeted them sleepily in its descent.

Harry went into the tent. Draco followed.

“I can help you with your trousers.”

Harry gave him a weird look. “You are King. Not a servant.”

“Still. I can help.”

Harry sighed. “What do you want?”

“Have I not made it obvious? I want you.”

“And if I give myself to you? Will you help Grimmauld Kingdom?”

“Yes,” Draco breathed, his heart pounding. 

“Okay.” Harry simply removed his clothes and laid back against the pillows. 

Draco turned his face away. He had seen enough to know that Harry wasn’t aroused. “I don’t want you like this.” His voice was a croak.

“How then? On my stomach?” Harry began to roll over. Draco grabbed his ankle to stop him. 

“No - stop. I couldn’t - it’s too much.”

“Tell me how you want me, Your Highness. I will do anything you want.”

Draco scrambled from the tent. The wind had picked up and trees thrashed on all sides. He kicked a stone, enjoying the pain in his toe. He hated feeling this way. He hated being so _weak_. 

Harry followed him. Thankfully he had put a clean pair of trousers on. “I don’t understand.”

Draco put his back to him. He hugged himself. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

He laughed bitterly. “Only because you refuse to be honest with me. All you do is push me away.”

“I took off my clothes. I was ready for you to fuck me.”

“It’s not about sex. Not all of it.”

“Then what is it about?”

He sucked in a deep breath. He was a fool, an absolute fool, but he only had one chance. “I have been in love with you since we were children.”

“How is that possible? You don’t know me.”

Draco turned around, angry. “I know you! I’ve _watched_ you. You were always on my mind at school.”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “You were a bully. You _hated_ me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I was a spoiled child. I didn’t know how to handle rejection.”

“I rejected you because you were cruel. You made fun of my friends. You sneered at anyone who wasn’t royalty.”

“I was a child!” His voice was shrill, and he hated it, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I was just a child! A stupid, spoiled _brat_. And I wanted you. God, did I want you.”

Harry parted his lips. There was color in his face, but Draco didn’t know if it came from arousal or anger. “You ran away. You were a coward. The Malfoy Kingdom could have been the deciding factor in the war, but instead your family _hid_.”

“I’m sorry for that. My father - I was only following what he wanted.”

“But nothing has changed, has it? I tell you the Grimmauld people are starving and you give me an ultimatum: Let me fuck your arse, or else I won’t feed them.”

Draco drew his sword. His voice was deadly low. “That is not what I said.”

“Drop your sword! I do not intend to fight you.”

“Only because you want to keep your head.”

“You want to fight _me_? Put your sword away and use your hands.”

Draco threw his sword to the ground and charged. He tackled Harry, and they landed in the mud, grunting and rolling. Harry thrust an arm into his throat, blocking, choking. Draco punched him in the side, over and over. 

“Make me bleed,” Draco said. “ _I dare you_.”

“With pleasure.” Harry dug his nails into his cheek. 

“Damn you for leaving a mark.” He tried to pry his hand away, but Harry used all his strength to force him up and over. “Fuck, fuck,” Draco panted, trying to resist, but Harry was too strong. He forced Draco onto his side, then his back. Draco kicked and thrashed, but Harry got two hands around his neck. 

“Fuck you,” Harry said, his eyes glittering.

Draco whined and thrust up. “Please.”

“Isn’t it too early to beg?” His hands tightened.

“Please kiss me.”

Harry laughed. “You don’t even know if I’m attracted to men.”

“Yes, I do.” Draco rolled his hips, letting Harry feel his growing erection. 

Harry gritted his teeth. “Damn you.”

Draco wrapped his arm around his neck, urging him closer. He tried kissing his cheek, but he was still being strangled. “ _Harry._ ”

His eyes fluttering, Harry thrust a little, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Draco wanted to taste those teeth. Draco wrapped his long legs around him, imprisoning him. 

“Please,” he said again. 

“What a good little bottom you’d be.”

Draco gave a choked laugh. “Because I’m on my back? Because I’m desperate for you? You have no idea what I could do with my cock.”

“Neither do you if the rumors are true.”

“Only because you are the only one for me. It’s always been you, only you.”

Groaning, Harry kissed him. Draco made a shocked noise, and moaned deeply, painfully. He’d do anything, _anything_. Harry released his neck and Draco rolled them over, pinning him to the ground. Draco kissed him hard, wanting him to submit, but he didn’t need to use force. Harry groaned again and parted his lips. 

Draco licked into his mouth, tasting his tongue, his lips. They kissed and kissed, open-mouthed, tongues caressing. Harry moaned and Draco swallowed the sound. 

“You want me.” He ran his hand over Harry’s stiffy, insistent, confined in his trousers.

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

“Tell me why. Please - tell me.”

“God, I hate you.”

“More. _More._ ”

“I hate you. No one gets under my skin like you do.”

“It’s not just because you want me to help your kingdom?”

“You’ve always been the only one who makes me lose control. I couldn’t let you get close.”

“I want you close. I want to be inside you.”

“Draco,” Harry said almost shyly.

“Please. Anything.”

Harry arched his back. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. “Fuck me.”

Draco caressed his cheeks. “Look at me,” he whispered. Harry looked at him, and his eyes were dark. “Tell me you want me. Tell me it’s true.”

“Damn you, it’s true.”

Draco gave Harry his hand and they stood. Inside the tent, he urged Harry onto his back and crawled on top of him. Draco kissed him deeply. Their tongues battled for a moment, but then Harry moaned again and submitted. Draco hummed from the power. Harry was large and strong and he was on his back, wanting Draco to penetrate him.

Draco kissed down his stomach. He pulled Harry’s trousers off, and it was a shock to see him fully aroused. He wrapped his hand around him and stroked. He was heavy and warm in his palm. 

“Lick it.”

Taking a deep breath, Draco lowered to his stomach. He dragged his mouth over Harry’s warm thighs, summoning the courage. What if he did it wrong? He was a virgin king and he was about to make a fool of himself. 

Draco took Harry into his hand again, his thumb caressing a throbbing vein. He licked the wet head, tasting salt. His toes curled. God. 

“Take me into your mouth.” Harry put a hand on the back of his head.

Draco glared up at him. “Don’t order me.”

Harry laughed and dropped his hand. “All right.”

“I like it when you do what I tell you.” Draco stroked his cock lazily.

Harry bit his lip. “You like it when everyone does what you tell them.”

“True, but you’re different.” He sucked Harry into his mouth, then realized he didn’t know how to proceed. Harry stiffened beneath him.

“Move,” Harry croaked. “Watch for teeth.”

 _Right._ Draco bobbed his head slowly, hoping Harry wasn’t feeling his teeth. He tasted more precome and his eyes fluttered. Fuck, this was good. 

“Draco,” Harry whined. 

He took him down further, almost to his throat. Harry’s hips jerked and Draco pulled away, gagging. Spit ran down his chin and his eyes watered. 

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry.” Harry was shaking and his cock was red and glistening. Draco was fascinated. He licked up his shaft, over the head, again and again. He sucked on his bollocks, tonguing them, listening for Harry’s reactions. 

“Do you want to come in my mouth?” he asked almost sweetly. 

“No, I will be too sensitive after that. I want to come with you in my arse.”

This made Draco pant. He had to close his eyes and press a hand to his stiffy. He would come in his pants if Harry said that again.

“Will you remove your clothes, sir? I want to see you starkers.”

“Oh, shut up.” Draco sat back to take off his tunic, sheath, and trousers. His hands were shaking and he couldn’t hide it.

“You’re so pink.” Harry licked his lips.

Draco felt himself blush. He had the biggest urge to cover himself up, but he forced a confident smirk. “Spread your thighs.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “We need lube.”

“I know that!” Draco reached for his satchel in the corner. He pulled out a little glass bottle. 

“Oh, good. I was afraid for a moment.”

“ _Shut up._ Now spread them.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry spread his legs, putting his bollocks and arse on display. Draco gulped. He wet his fingers with the lube and found Harry’s hole. It was warm and small, very small.

Draco knew from fingering himself that anal sex was possible, but right now it felt impossible. He was going to hurt Harry.

“Go slowly, one finger at a time. I want to feel you stretch me.”

“Fuck.” Draco caressed his hole, feeling it twitch; then he pressed inside and the flesh gave way. His knuckle popped through the ring of muscle and Harry shifted. “Okay?”

“I can barely feel it. Move and curl up.”

“Yeah.” He was panting again. He thrust his finger in and out, his eyes fluttering. It was just so silky and tight. 

“I can take another finger,” Harry said, sounding amused. Draco found him staring intently at his face.

“Yeah, okay.” Draco added more lube just to be safe, then he added another finger. He moaned and let his mouth fall open.

“You really wanted this.”

“Of course.” Draco’s voice shivered. 

“This really is your first time.”

“Kiss me.”

Harry pulled him down and sealed their lips. Harry moaned. “I’m ready. Fuck me now.”

“Are you sure?” Draco withdrew his fingers.

In response, Harry grabbed Draco’s cock and guided it to his hole. Draco batted him away, then, gritting his teeth, he thrust inside Harry.

“Oh, _fuck_.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, breathless.

“I’m going to come.”

“No, you’re not.” Harry wrapped his legs around his waist. “Fuck me hard.”

“I can’t move.”

Harry wiggled his hips. “Fuck me.”

Whimpering, Draco withdrew a little and pushed back inside. It felt incredible. It felt like everything he imagined, and more. He rocked his hips, picking up speed.

“I love you.”

“God. Faster.”

Draco buried his head in Harry’s shoulder, breathing his scent. He was overwhelmed. He had been fantasizing about this moment since he was a teenager. 

“Harry.”

Harry thrashed, urging him faster, deeper. He clung to Draco’s shoulders. “Please.”

“Yes. Anything.” Draco thrust as hard as he could, knees slipping, his bollocks so fucking tight. 

“Please.”

Without warning, Draco came and it was too much. He cried out, his hips jerking, his cock so fucking hard. He bit into Harry’s shoulder again, moaning.

“Draco,” Harry said.

“God.” He collapsed against him, panting. He pulled out and scooted down to take Harry into his mouth. Harry moaned liquidly and flooded his mouth with come. Draco tried to swallow but a lot of it escaped his lips.

Harry pulled him into his arms. He kissed his cheek. Draco was barely awake. 

“I want you to marry me,” Draco said groggily. 

Harry kissed his forehead. “I will do what Sirius wants.”

“Then I will have to convince him.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes. I doubt it’ll be hard.”

Draco kissed his stomach. “But what about you? Do you want to marry me?”

“Perhaps. Let me get to know you first.”

Draco frowned. “You know me.”

“I don’t know this version of you.”

Sighing, Draco said, “I suppose I see what you mean.”

Harry moved so that he was above Draco. He whispered, “My King.” 

“Oh, fuck. Say it again.”

Harry laughed. He kissed down his stomach. He said it again and took Draco into his mouth. 

“I love you,” Draco breathed, his eyes rolling up. Harry sucked harder.


End file.
